The Ponds Alone: Toast and Snow
by Amefurikozo
Summary: Left stranded in the '40s, Amy's mental health starts to test the Pond's marriage. Even if you hate it, leave a criticism so I can learn! Thanks!


AU: Amy has severe depression

Clutching at her coffee, Amy sat staring out of the window in her apartment of 10 years. It was one of those days of cold harsh brightness in late autumn, a day of stark blue cloudless sky and apart from the thin coating of snow no sign of how biting the day would be. The mug was burning her hands, but she still gripped tightly. Rory began to stir next to her, stretching as he woke, and automatically reaching a hand up to touch her side and reassure himself that she was there. Amy looked down at him and smiled, she always loved his chaotic bed hair, but the vulnerability of Rory, blurry-eyed and shirtless, gazing up at her almost broke her heart.

"G'morning." Rory groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "How long have you been leaching on an innocent sleeping man?" Amy smiled, and looked out of the window again. They'd been living in the '40s for quite a while now, but still looking out the window every morning she was still surprised. Still, with wide leafy streets and the music, Rory was happy, at least after he'd stopped getting into fights about politics. He glanced up at her now, and noticed the look in her eyes. Sitting up, he leaned in towards her, resting his head on her shoulder. Please God, let her not have another one of those days, he thought to himself.

"Amy, are you ok?" She nodded in return, and after a pause turned and gave him a smile.

"Sorry Rory, I was miles away, of course I'm ok! Do you want some breakfast? I could make us some porridge? Or we could go to that pancake place you like? But if we go there, remind me not to get the large stack, it's just a waste of good pancakes!" The frenetic energy in her voice was obviously strained, and behind her smile Rory could tell she wasn't ok at all. He wished Amy would talk to him about how much she hurt inside, he wanted so badly to protect her, but he knew he couldn't protect her from herself. Amy was always so strong, always brave and always fighting, sometimes Rory worried that Amy didn't thing he was strong enough to cope with her problems too. He kissed her neck and replied,

"Are you crazy? It's far too cold for that, you wait here, and I'll get us some toast." Rory pulled on a dressing gown, and went downstairs to clatter around for a while. Hopefully she just wants to be alone for a little while, he thought to himself.

Ten minutes later Amy came down to the kitchen and put a folded piece of paper on the table. Rory was so confused by the tears pouring down her face, that he didn't react as she reached up to him and gave a gentle kiss, before turning and walking away. Hearing the front door shut jerked him in to action, he ran towards the door, then back to the kitchen to get the note, and then turned again in his indecision. Realising that it was too late to run after her, he grabbed the note and read it three times rapidly, before he took a breath and actually managed to take any of it in. What he learnt was this: Amy didn't love him, Amy loved someone else, Amy had cheated on him, Amy was leaving him, Amy hated him and never wanted to see him again in her life. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like his heart had suddenly vanished, and taken all the air in his lungs with it. He sunk to the kitchen floor, leaning up against the fridge and read the letter again. He tried desperately to grasp on to one solid thought or emotion, but was suddenly falling and not even his brain could produce anything firm to hold on to. First disbelief, then anger, then pain, then jealousy and back to disbelief, he closed his eyes and listened to his racing heartbeat, trying to calm it.

Ignoring all of his half-formed thoughts and twisted emotions, Rory forced himself to remain calm. Working in the E.R, he had picked up some tricks about blocking out the unimportant things, and right now it felt like the whole world was unimportant. Opening his eyes, he realised that he had crunched the letter into a ball. Straightening it out, he blinked the water from his eyes and focused on the last sentence of the letter, 'I never want to see you again, as long as I live'. He was finally calm; taking a long breath he stood, walking back up to the room, where their warm blankets still lay crumpled on the bed. He knew what he needed to do.

Amy could feel the air biting into her lungs with every breath she took, the tears on her face were in danger of turning to ice, but she brushed them away angrily. You know you're doing this for his own good, she thought to herself. But still, the dull pain ached inside her; her very bone marrow ached to go back to Rory. Scolding herself she continued on, crunching through the virgin snow on her way to the nature reserve close to their home. She had had this day prepared for a long time, the first snow of winter had arrived, which meant it was time for her to leave. Little Amelia's days in the girl scouts had taught her how to tie a noose, and Amy had discovered an unused hunting cabin where "a girl could have a little privacy", she thought to herself. She had felt so terrible for so long, an unceasing sadness which poisoned the rest of her life and left her feeling empty. She knew that Rory wanted to help her, but he was the only pure and beautiful part of her life, she wouldn't let him be dragged into this. He was the only tether that connected her to this world, and she wanted to drift away.

Pulling open the bottom draw of his bedside cabinet, Rory lifted out a plain black box. Amy shared the Doctor's hatred of guns, and didn't know he had it, but after the things they had seen together, he wanted to feel safe. The box felt curiously light as he lifted in, and looking inside he saw instantly that the gun was gone. Instead the box was filled with pictures, Rory and Amy at their wedding, Rory and Amy as children together, Rory and Amy watching a supernova, Rory and Amy, Rory and Amy, Rory and Amy. At the bottom of the pictures was a note in Amy's familiar scrawl: "You don't need a gun when I'll always be there to protect you, p.s. I was just cleaning, not snooping". Suddenly it all made sense, Amy didn't hate him, she was trying to hurt him to stop him from caring about her. Ever since her days as a little girl that no-one believed or listened to, she kept her emotions locked up inside. But now the pressure had turned into a bomb, and she had tried to get Rory out of the way before she blew.

The cabin was barely a shed, a one-roomed wooden hut, concealed by a patch of evergreens, but it would do for her purposes. Snow fell from the branches as she pushed through to reach the cabin. She tried to pry the frozen doors open with her fumbling bare fingers, but failed miserably. Eventually yelling with frustration, she forced her whole body into the door, smashing her fists against it. The doors broke open and she dropped onto the dusty cabin floor in a fit of uncontrollable anger and misery. She curled up on the floor, and cried, deep fits of tears racked her whole body, she felt like she would never stop crying. The pain was too for her to bear, the thought of being alive filled her with such desolation, but leaving Rory was something that she simply couldn't do.

Rory had followed the familiar set of footprints leading away from the house, and was sprinting in the forest, terrified of what he would find at the end of the trail. Suddenly through the branches in front of him parted and barrelling through them at full-speed, a flash of ginger.

"Amy!"

"Rory!" They ran full kilter into one another, Amy tossing her arms up around his neck pulling him down with her. She buried her face in his chest and cried, trying to choke out words and explanations, but finding it was too much to say, too much to explain. Catching his breath from this sudden change of events, Rory slowly put his hand up to Amy's head, entwining his fingers in her hair and softly stroking her head. Her body was so warm and so alive pressed up against him in the snow, the thought of finding her cold dead body overwhelmed him and he held her tightly to him, pressing her into him. He could feel her heart beat, beating wildly at first, but slowing down to match his, as her breathing calmed and eventually her breath-raking sobs died down. They lay in silence for a while, the raw pine-scented air filling their lungs. Finally Amy spoke.

"There never was anyone else, I just thought maybe if I made you hate me, you would be happy when I was gone and it would be easier for you. I didn't want you to be sad; angry is always better than sad." She said in a small voice, muffled by his chest.

"I could never hate you. When I thought you never wanted to see me again, I hated myself for not taking care of you enough. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you; Amy, I am so deeply in love with you." Rory was so calm and collected, Amy had forgotten this side of him, she always saw herself as the stronger one, but now she was remembering what it felt like to share some of her pain, and see that it wasn't drowning the person she shared it with. "You need to talk to a doctor though. You need to see a psychiatrist and maybe get some pills... We need to get back to the 21st Century. I don't know how, but we'll do it, me and you." The calm in Rory's voice centred Amy, hearing him speak; she really believed that they could do it together. It wouldn't be quick and it definitely wouldn't be easy, but eventually she would beat this.

There was a moment of silence as they listened to a distant bird.

"Rory?" Amy asked finally. "Are you still wearing your pyjamas?"


End file.
